


Kageyama & Hinata

by mean_whale



Series: First Kiss [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mean_whale/pseuds/mean_whale
Summary: All this time Kageyama has been staring without knowing why.





	Kageyama & Hinata

**Author's Note:**

> First posted elsewhere in October 2017

He was staring. He was staring at Hinata. He knew he was, yet there was nothing he could do to stop it. He didn't know why it was happening, and he had no idea when it had started, but he knew it had been going on for a while. Hinata’s orange hair was tousled by practice, a few sweaty strands weighing heavily on the dry hair. When the sun peeked in through the window, Hinata's hair seemed to set ablaze.

“Kageyama!”

He turned to look at Tanaka who was glaring at him.

“Pay attention!” Nishinoya echoed from next to his friend.

He nodded and turned to look at the gym before him, the wide parquet floors that shone quietly under the squeaking sneakers and slamming balls. It was the shine of his life, his soul, and when he lay in his bed at nights unable to sleep he brought back the sounds of practice to make him relax. He heard the shouts of his team, his friends, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

He caught the ball Yamaguchi threw to him and took his place behind the line that was matt against the shine of the floor. The ball was firm and heavy against his palms, exactly how it should be, and he bounced it off the floor a few times, enjoying the sound that seemed to echo throughout his body.

Jumping serve.

The imprint of the hit remained on his palm like the ghost of a ball that once was. He saw the group on the opposing side get into formation, and he didn't have to think before his legs were carrying him. He knew where the ball was going, he set it, and a flash of light blinded him.

Hinata shone as he soared through the air, his movements uncontrolled but right. His orange hair swerved, and his legs were heavy when they touched the ground, but light immediately after.

The ball bounced off the floor, but Kageyama couldn't tell where. He was staring again but didn't understand why. Hinata hadn't done anything stupid or wrong, yet he felt like there was something he wanted to say, something he should say. The practice around him came to an end, and he still didn't know what was keeping his attention on the short boy who bounced around like a volleyball out of control.

It was amazing, he thought, how short Hinata's limbs were out of court, and how long they seemed to grow when they played. Hinata was tiny next to Yamaguchi, who was laughing at something Hinata had said. Noya joined them when Hinata was explaining something animatedly, hands waving and legs kicking, and even Tsukishima snorted quietly.

“Hinata!” he called before he could think differently.

“Looks like you're in trouble,” he heard Noya laugh.

He was staring at Hinata as the boy jogged over to him. Hinata had pearls of sweat on his forehead, and he swiped them off when they started sliding down towards his brow. His shirt was clinging to his body in places.

“What?” Hinata asked.

They were alone, Kageyama noticed. The happy chatter of their teammates had been replaced by short gusts of wind that carried a leaf from the grass to the cement pavement where they stood. Hinata's eyes were shining.

It all made sense in that moment, and Kageyama leaned down, caught a glimpse of a questioning frown before closing his eyes and pressing a chaste kiss on Hinata's lips.

A bubble of laughter burst from Hinata's lips. Kageyama opened his eyes, expecting a face of ridicule. Instead, Hinata's face was bright.

“Finally,” Hinata said and laughed again.

“What do you mean?” Kageyama asked.

A frown was descending on his face, it was pulling his muscles taut. It reminded him of the first time he had met Hinata, the first time he had been so irrationally angry at a person just because he had seen a fire that wasn't allowed to burn. He now realised that he had never been angry at Hinata for wasting his talent; he had been angry at the world for not allowing him to shine how he was supposed to. He should have realised it sooner, but he had been too busy. At first, he had been preoccupied with hate and anger, then with trying to understand what he felt that was close to irritation but far away from it.

All this time he had had a crush on Hinata.

“Finally, you stopped staring,” Hinata said.

“Huh?” Kageyama asked.

Hinata pulled him down and kissed him. It was unhurried and sweet – and happy. Kageyama's stomach flipped, when he felt Hinata's hands on his cheeks.

All this time he should have known that when he looked at Hinata, the warmth inside him wasn't irritation but caring. It seemed so obvious now. How had he not realised.

“Do you have time?” Hinata asked.

He didn't know what it meant and what he was supposed to say. He looked down to the boy before him.

“Well?” Hinata asked.

Kageyama frowned.

“I think we should talk,” Hinata said.

“Why?” he asked.

Hinata laughed.

“Because clearly you're not following,” he said. “Are you even aware that we both just confessed our feelings?”

It seemed impossible, but also likely. When he had kissed Hinata, he hadn't thought it was a confession of anything, just the culmination of his feelings that had been unclear and haunting him.

“I guess,” he said.

Hinata laughed joyfully, and Kageyama couldn't help smiling himself. Still laughing, Hinata jumped up to wrap his arms around Kageyama's shoulders, bringing their lips into yet another kiss.

“I want to make sure that you understand how much I want you to be my boyfriend,” Hinata whispered against the kiss.

Kageyama's cheeks were warming up. Hinata took a hold of his hand and he let the joyful boy steer him towards the locker room. He squeezed Hinata's hand, and the feeling was much better than holding a ball.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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